Sour Revenge
by Welsh Gem
Summary: Disney Villains get the endings they had wished for: they win but in the most brutal ways. Rated for blood, violence, death, Heroes falls and much more tormenting things. 'M' rated chapters at 6-7 (for mentions of sex). Villains so far: Queen Grimhilde, Lady Tremaine, Doctor Facilier, Cruella de Vil, Scar, Jafar, Frollo. Up next: Medusa. Beta: Kokotheevilone.
1. Queen Grimhilde

Her scarlet lips grazed the flawless surface of the apple. There was the unmistakeable crunch of teeth sinking into the juicy flesh. Snow White's perfect jaw grinded the apple's flesh with a rhythmic movement. Her neck bobbed with the movement of swallowing. Within seconds, her almond eyes fluttered.

"Oh," She gasped softly. Her body swayed. "I feel…faint."

With a thump, Snow White's body hit the ground in deep sleep, her chest rising and falling so softly it could hardly been seen. Her hand lay limp against the wooden floor, the rosy red apple rolled from her grasp.

I cackled triumphantly. "Dead!" I cried and I stomped by feet against the floor. I raised my hands in victory over my head. "She's dead!" I laughed so hard I doubled over, my ribs aching. I felt as if my lungs were about to burst, my whole body started to hurt from racking with my laughter. As brittle and feeble I appeared and felt, I ignored every stab of pain and continued rejoicing.

Still blathering, I could have celebrated until the next morning but, however, I heard the fast storming of hooves and feet. I froze like a statue and listened. From the cries of war, I realised that Snow White's little dwarves were approaching quickly.

I hurried outside, panicking. Ignoring the over casting clouds, I clambered over flowers and tall blades of grass while attempting to hide around the back of the cottage; there was no way I could have escaped. I tucked myself between the branches of a rosemary bush and listened to the horrified cries and the outbreak of sobs as the seven dwarves discovered the 'corpse' of Snow White. Of course, I was fully aware that she was not dead but only in a deep sleep that only true loves kiss can awaken her from. However, the old fools would never know that. They wept and mourned for the loss of their new housemaid. The child so beautiful and so kind that she was loved by all was now dead, gone from this world. Before long, she would be buried deep into the ground to rot and starve while dreaming of her fair prince's arrival that would never come. Snow White was officially dead and I was now the fairest in the land.

Silently, I crept closer to the window in attempt to see their sad little faces. How petty, crying over the death of a fourteen year old. They all had taken off their pathetic hats in honour of the dead girl; tears were now dampening their silver beards. They tiny frames racked with sobs, they covered their eyes with their filthy hands.

It took all of my willpower to stifle my giggles.

The sky seemed to cry too; rain fell from the sky harshly and soaked me to the skin. Lightening lit up the sky from the dark clouds; thunder deafened the sound of crying birds. The dwarves lit candles to give them light.

"Put her upstairs, men." Ordered a dwarf with glasses. "Lay her on a bed, so it looks like she's just sleeping."

Slowly, the seven dwarves all helped lift Snow White from the cold floorboards and up the stairs. Within moments, they all returned and sat around their miniscule table. They cried some more, a few even drying their tears with their beards. One of them slammed his head against the table, his shoulders jerking as he wept.

I stifled a scoff; were they seriously weeping over someone so unworthy of it?

"What should we do with her?" A plump dwarf questioned as he gazed sullenly at the table. The others glanced at each other, their sad little eyes echoing the question.

"We should bury her." One replied. "Give her a proper funeral."

"No!" Cried one dwarf as he lifted his head from the table. "We can't bury a pretty face like that."

"But we can't leave her upstairs, Grumpy." Replied the plump dwarf.

"I know," Retorted Grumpy. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "We shouldn't bury her in the ground. We should leave her up on the land, in a glass coffin. Close to the sky, close to the flowers, you know? And if anyone passes by, they will see the prettiest lady ever and can share our tears, knowing that a pure heart has been wasted."

My heart almost stopped. They weren't going to bury her but leave her on the ground, in a glass coffin where people can see her! What if that prince she was courting with rides by and sees her? Could he awaken her with true loves kiss? I almost screamed as I slumped myself against the stone wall of the cottage. Those imbecilic dwarves were mindlessly ruining my plans!

"There must be a way…" I muttered to myself. I stroked my chin with my finger, only to feel it to be smooth. I glanced at my hands. They were no longer wrinkly. I pulled down my hood and inspected a lock of my hair. It had returned to its former jet black. I suddenly felt more energised, less old and frail. I was young and beautiful again.

"Another way…" I repeated to myself inaudibly. I glanced up above my head; there was an open window to the second floor. Instinctively, I reached into my cloak and pulled out a small silver dagger. I wasn't much but it would be enough to do the job.

Roughly, I bit onto the side of the blade and held the dagger with my mouth. I stood slowly, careful not to arouse the dwarves' attention. I dug my fine nails into the mossy gaps between the cobbled stones of the wall. Madly, I hoisted myself up and started scaling the wall; I had to get to Snow White.

Before long, my fingers started to ache and my knees were badly scraped. I clenched my jaw, tightening my grasp on the dagger. I raised my hand and grabbed the window pane. My nails dug into the smooth wood as I pulled myself up, kicking my feet against the wall and I threw my torso over the ledge. Half of my was inside; only my waist and legs hung from the window. I grabbed onto the post of the near bed and pulled myself forward. I brought one leg in to hold myself up and then brought the other in; I was finally inside the cottage.

I tore the dagger from jaw, clenching it tightly around the metal handle. The 'corpse' of Snow White was laid out on a bed, a white sheet thrown over her. I crept towards her, my hands trembling with excitement. I was almost there.

I reached out my hand to pull back the covers. My fingers were stained with dirt, my nails now broken; small cuts were dotted around my palm. My nostrils flared; I was about to be the fairest of them all. The sheet was in my grasp; I flung it over my head and behind me to reveal the cold body of Snow White. I felt her bare arm; she was as cold as stone. A satisfied grin crossed my face. I gripped the dagger tightly and raised it high above my head.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall," I whispered. I leaned forward, near Snow White's ears. I grinned insanely, my eyes wide with power. _"Now _who's fairest of them all_?"_

I stood up tall, my dagger aimed. With a thrilling flip of my stomach, I plunged my dagger downwards and into Snow White's chest, piercing her heart. Blood oozed from the wound and dripped over the navy fabric of her corset. I pressed the dagger harder, enjoying the sight of Snow White's dripping blood. It stained my hands; I didn't care. She was dying and I was living.

I pressed the dagger harder, wishing for it to drain out every single last drop of blood. _…_

The sheets were stained crimson, the front of my black robes soaked. I wondered how better it would have been if I could have seen the life drain from Snow White's almond eyes.

I removed the dagger only to lift it up higher and then spear it through her bare throat.

More blood poured from the hole in her neck, her veins pumped out the scarlet liquid that kept her alive. Drops of it slowly seeped from her lips. I couldn't help but think how it matched the same colour of her lips.

Removing my pale hand from the stained dagger, I glanced triumphantly at the corpse of Snow White. Grinning, I leapt from the window and down to the ground. Knowing that Snow White was now bleeding to death, I happily walked all the way back to my castle, allowing the rain to clean me of her innocent blood. I stripped myself of my clothing and swam the moat, entering the marble palace via my secret entrance. I dressed myself in my usual royal robes and headed towards my beloved mirror.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall."

The image of Snow White bathed in her own blood, her dark tresses tainted with scarlet, her pale skin stained crimson, flashed across my mind.

"Who is the fairest of them all?"

I could only imagine the horror on the faces of the seven dwarves when they will discover Snow White. Her blood would stain those sheets and flooring forever. The memory of her will haunt the cottage. Her corpse would forever be tainted with blood, no matter how hard they may attempt to wash it away.

My darling mirror stared at me with hollow eyes; no emotion crossed his green face. Truthfully, he answered me with the very words I desired and craved for so long:

_Oh you, my queen, are the fairest of them all._

And with that, I laughed.


	2. Lady Tremaine

**Hello dear readers, I greet you with a second chapter. I hope you all enjoyed the first one as much as I enjoyed writing it. (Yes I have a sick mind). Thank you all for reviews, I do appreciate them and enjoy reading them. If you have any requests on which villains I should write about, please do not be afraid to tell me :)**

**MysteryGirl7Freak: Ah yes, I do have a dark imagination. I love villains XD**

**Heart of the Wind 007: Thanks :)**

**FanWriter2012: Thanks, I'm glad you like the idea :) Yes, poor dwarves (I feel sorry for Grumpy the most ) Haha, yep Snow died for a good cause XD I'm not really doing them in any order and I am hoping to do one for all the villains (apart from Pete, Mortimer Mouse, etc.). Here's Lady Tremaine at your request. If you want any specific villains, just ask :)**

"These glass shoes aren't always reliable!" Anastasia misguided as she started toying with her red locks.

I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes; she had always been a terrible lair. I could remember when she and Drizella would always claim it was Cinderella who ate the stolen treats, despite the evidence clearly being the crumbs around their mouths or the scent of their breaths. Nevertheless, I went along with it and blamed Cinderella. I have always hated that child, walking around the place as if she felt she was better than everyone else. To have her become a Princess would be the last straw for me. She didn't deserve it. Her father spoilt her dreadfully, showering her with the best of dresses and toys. He hardly paid any attention to my girls; they were much more worthy of the attention than that spoilt brat of a girl. Cinderella didn't deserve anything more than a cold room in an attic and being a housemaid. She was lucky enough that I gave her the job of housemaid of my own home instead of throwing her out into the gutter to rot. Was she grateful? No, she wanted her dresses back, her dolls and luxuries. She soon learned her place after a couple of lashes with my belts and harsh punishments.

Thinking of the girl, I kept my eyes on Anastasia's failing attempts to make the glass slipper fit while I slipped my hand into my pocket to check on the key. As soon as my hand was fully into my velvet pocket, I panicked. The key wasn't there.

I felt suddenly sick. I thrashed my hand around my pocket, pleading to my mind that it was just my imagination and that it was there. I still couldn't feel it. I lowered my eyes and peeked inside. The key definitely wasn't there. I checked my other pocket. It wasn't there either.

Eyes wide, my mind was racing. How had it disappeared? I only checked it was there moments ago! It didn't pull it out; it must have vanished into thin air! How is that even possible?

I placed my hand on my chest, trying to even my breathing. The Duke was fast asleep in the chair and his helper was busy attempting to fit the slipper onto Anastasia's oversized foot. As no eyes were watching, I checked my pocket for any holes and quickly analysed the floor around me.

I light _ping_ caught my attention. I glanced up and examined the room it my eyes. I could see nothing out of the ordinary other than the sleeping Duke in my favourite chair. A sudden movement caught the corner of my eye.

Turning, I managed to catch the gleam of gold. The key! Focusing my eyes, I noticed two squirming animals pushing it up the staircase.

My stomach dropped.

They were taking the key up the stairs case to Cinderella.

They were going to set her free.

_But they're mice! _A voice in the back of my head argued. _They're dull, mindless, tiny creatures who have no brains! How could they know that you have the key; that Cinderella wishes to be down here to steal the glory after disobeying your orders? How could they know that she's the prince's lost love? They're mice, for God damn sake!_

_But they have my key, _I retorted. _Why would _mice_ want my key? Why would mice want the very key that holds Cinderella's fate?_

Then it hit me. _They were the mice inside Anastasia's breakfast, only mornings ago. They are friends with Cinderella, as absurd as it sounds._ Despite being mice, they knew what they were doing. I had to stop them, quickly but innocently. So I did the natural thing:

"MICE!" I screamed.

Anastasia stopped forcing the slipper onto her foot and pounced up onto her chair. Drizella screamed and hurried to stand on the sofa. The Duke awoke from the screaming, baffled and confused.

Gripping my cane, I rushed over to them and slammed it down onto their heads. It didn't kill them, only made them curl up in pain. I hit one on the side with the end of my cane and kicked the other with my shoe. They were both dressed in clothing; a fat one with a green shirt and the other wearing an orange coat.

_She had made them clothes, _I laughed inwardly. How ridiculous, mice wearing clothing, yet it was happening in front of my very eyes.

"Lucifer!" Cried Drizella as she screamed. "Lucifer, get here immediately!"

I stifled a grin. Oh yes, Lucifer would take care of the mice. It was almost his dinner time anyway. I watched the two mice try to get to their paws, confused and frightened of my glare. Lucifer, my darling black cat, came pounding down the stairs with an excited grin plastered onto his features. He instantly saw the mice and leapt from the stairs and right onto the marble floor.

The mice squealed and attempted to run away but my Lucifer was far too quick; he swiped them with his claws, causing a gushing wound on the fat mouse with the green shirt. It whimpered as its fur became drenched with the crimson liquid. Lucifer slammed a paw on the second one and clenched his jaws over the fat mouse's upper torso. Holding down the other house with his paw, Lucifer started to sink his teeth into the fat mouse. Anastasia screamed as blood dripped onto the flooring, the Duke paled and collapsed into the chair.

"Oh dear," I muttered with dry humour. "There's blood on my clean floor." The corners of my lips twitched but I suppressed a smirk; I had to keep up appearances. "Lucifer," I called. My darling pet perked up, half of dead mouse hanging from his mouth. "Take them outside, dear. I don't want them staining my floor."

And with that, Lucifer shoved the other mouse past his fangs and carried them down into the kitchens, leaving small trails of scarlet droplets behind.

The Duke stared at them, open mouthed. "I apologise for the scene, your grace." I spoke. "I do hope you do not reflect it upon our image."

"No, no, no, no. N-not at all, Lady Tremaine. Our P-Pom-Pom, our cat back in the palace, I'm sure she would have done the same." The Duke replied, constantly fidgeting with his monocle. He still appeared green. His eyes were fixed upon the blood.

"Don't worry about the blood, your grace. Our housemaid will clean it up later." I informed him. He perked up.

"There's another lady in the house?" He questioned. I cursed my tongue.

"No, your grace." I quickly added. "She does not reside here at this moment; she has been staying with her son out of town." I lied. "She hasn't been here for a week and is expected to arrive within a few hours."

The Duke's face fell. "Oh, alright then. Is there something wrong with her son, then?"

"Apparently, his wife is due to give birth. He wanted his mother there to witness the child entering our world." I deceived. The man was so gullible.

"How sweet." The Duke mumbled with a smile. To make it seem believable, I forced a sweet smile.

"Yes, I agree." I fictioned. "Shall we continue with the fitting?"

"Of course! Shall we try the next lady?" The Duke replied.

Anastasia reluctantly handed back the slipper and stomped over to the sofa and pouted there. Drizella calmly sat into the seat and elegantly held out a shoeless foot. The footman slipped it on forcefully, stuffing Drizella's large toes into the glass shoe.

"It fits!" She cried joyfully. Sadly, her foot was far too big and the shoe flipped from her foot and soared through the air. As everyone was busy attempting to catch the slipper, I swiftly bent down and picked up the key before slipping it back into my pocket. I gripped it tightly; no mouse was going to steal it now.

The Duke managed to catch the glass slipper with the velvet cushion it arrived in. As it was held safely in the plush fabric, The Duke sighed thankfully and sunk into the chair again. After a few seconds of realising the shoe was safe, he groaned and massaged his temples.

"Are you positive that there are no more ladies in this household?" he questioned.

"There's no one else, your grace." I answered with fake sorrow.

"What about this housemaid, how old is she?" He asked. I could tell he was desperate to find someone.

"She is older than I am." I lied.

The Duke bowed his head in defeat. "Very well," He muttered. "We shall move onto the next house."

He stood up from the chair and handed the glass slipper to his footman. Yawning, he placed his hat back onto his head and headed towards the door. "I apologise for not being able to assist you, your grace."

"Hm-What? Oh yes, not to worry." He replied. "We shall continue our quest to find the girl."

"I do hope you find her," I forced out the words. "A Royal wedding is what this kingdom deserves."

"Yes," The Duke dully replied while inspecting his chronometer. "Well Madam, I bid you good day." He marched out of the front doors with his footman, taking away the slipper.

We waited until the roll of wheels and the clip-clop of horse hooves had died away until the girls turned to me with tears in their eyes. "Oh mother, we're so sorry!" They wept. "We failed you."

"Girls, girls!" I cried. "There's no use crying over spilt milk. Not to worry, at least we prevent the real maiden from ever reaching her prince." I muttered.

The girls frowned, glanced at each other and then back to me. "What do you mean mother?" They questioned. I rolled my eyes; how silly they must be to not have worked it out yet.

"Cinderella disobeyed my orders and now, she will be punished." I noted before turning my backs to them and heading up the stairs. "I advise you girls not to approach the attic for the next hour or so. Cinderella has forgotten her place and needs to be reminded."

I carefully crept up the stairs case and firstly headed to my room. I bent on all fours and pulled a large box from under my head. Opening the lid, I pulled out a fine leather belt with a steel buckle. It was Cinderella's father's old belt, the same one I used to beat her with. Since she turned eleven, she had become fearful of the belt and carried out my orders without hesitation. She never dared to disobey me. She knew that if she did, I would have to lash her. She would have the scars for months, a painful reminder to her what would happen if she contravene me again. By the fact that she attended the ball, she needed reminding where her place is. She needed reminding that she didn't deserve dolls or dresses or marrying a prince and living happily ever after. She needed to remember that she was nothing but an orphaned housemaid with no chance of ever living happily ever after. She will never marry a prince.

Not while I'm alive.

I headed up to the attic, taking the key from my pocket and unlocking the door. I swung it open to reveal that Cinderella weeping, sprawled out on her bed and face smothered with a pillow. She raised her head at the creak of the door and spun around to see me.

"Why?" She croaked. "Why?"

I ignored her. "Take off your clothes and get against the wall." I ordered. Her eyes drifter down to the belt and widened with terror. Weeping, she stripped down to her skivvies and stood against the wall, her bare back facing me. The image of the little eight year old girl who refused to make breakfast or clean the windows flashed against my mind. "I'm sure you remember the drill." I muttered coldly.

Cinderella nodded. "Yes." She whimpered.

"One hundred times." I mentioned. "Remember to keep count."

Cinderella nodded. "Yes." She whimpered.

I folded the belt in my hands, pulling it to check the sternness of it. Like always, it was stiff. I raised the belt and brought it back down with such force, it slapped against Cinderella's bare back and left a red mark. She screamed in pain.

"I must not disobey orders." She whimpered. "One."

_Slap!_

"I must not disobey orders. Two."

_Slap!_

"I must not disobey orders. Three."

The thrashing continued until a tearful Cinderella finally reached one hundred. I stood back and admired my work. Her previously fair bare back was now scorched red, where the buckle had scratched her skin had left small cuts with blood slowly oozing from it and down her back. Cinderella's eyes were red from crying, shadows had formed under her eyelids and some strands of her strawberry blonde hair were now damp from tears. Her throat was dry from screaming.

"That will be all, Cinderella." I finished. Cinderella's shaky legs collapsed under her and she fell into a pile with her clothes. She cried loudly, her whole body raking from the sobs. "And by the way, two of your devilish mice friends attempted to steal the key. Luckily, Lucifer got them before they could reach you."

Cinderella gasped and faced me, fear in her baby blue eyes.

"The fat one with the green shirt," I informed her. Her eyes widened. "And the one with the orange coat."

Her lips traced the words: "Gus and Jaq."

"And there will be no need in feeding Lucifer much tonight; those mice had filled him up."

"You're a liar!" Cinderella screamed as she cradled herself.

"And there's a trail of blood leading from the entrance hall down to the kitchens. Clean that up soon."

She broke down in sobs, tears flowing like streams over her face. Not interested in tears, I turned to leave only to be stopped by a simple word:

"Why?"

I froze and glanced back. Cinderella was glaring at me, hateful. "Why did you do it? Why are you so bent on destroying my life?" She questioned.

I thought for a few seconds before a smile broke out across my face. I couldn't help it; it sneaked on before I could stop it.

"Why do I want to destroy your life? I don't want to." I told her.

She frowned. My grin grew wider.

"I destroy your life because I simply can."

I let out a malicious laugh as I slammed the doors shut and left the attic, wiping away the tears of laugher from my face.


	3. Doctor Facilier

**Hi guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Gone back to school, started AS Welsh, I'm off on an Italy trip in a couple of weeks so it's been pretty hectic. Managed to get this up, hope you enjoy (I know I did enjoy writing it (mwhahaha)).**

** Thanks for reviews, they are loved by many but any flames will be shoved down Bambi's throat!**

**Hatter and Hare Productions:**** *blushing* thanks True, I always thought it would be disgusting if they left Snow White out in a glass coffin for all the world to see, after all she's going to die of starvation and then rot into nothingness with maggots feeding on her flesh…I know, they all need a bit more psychotic thoughts but I'm kinda having a bit of trouble with that ^^; I'll keep trying! Here's Doctor Facilier at your request, Madam Mim might take a while because I can barely remember the film. It seems so long ago I last watched Sword in the Stone…Vidia, sorry, won't come up until I've actually seen the film. Once I have, I promise you I will put a chapter on her!**

**FanWriter2012: ****YAY! Villains are meant to be hated and I made you hate her! Thank you Cruella will definitely come up, probably in the next chapter…I can't wait to start writing about her and her 99 puppy coat ^_^**

**PirateWizardThief: **** Here's the next one for you **

**StarReader86: ****I proved Lady Tremaine is one of the most evil women in Disney history? VICTORY DANCE! All of your requests will appear in future chapters, stay tuned! :D**

**Too-lazy-to-login: ****(I get too lazy sometimes, too) Medusa and McLeach will absolutely come up at one point; **_**Rescuers**_** are one of my favourite Disney movies!**

**Starvista: ****Thank you **

**Eclipse ze lunachic: ****Frollo. Is. epic. He is definitely up in future chapters, he's brilliant! **

"If any of you objects to the union of these two people, speak now or forever hold your peace."

I chuckled maliciously, tightening my grip around the voodoo doll and my silver pin. I kept my eyes trained on Lawrence and Ms la Bouff, holding hands and gazing at each other with a sickly love that made me want to throw up. Thankfully, I was too excited for the 'tragic' death of Bid Daddy la Bouff.

Poor Big Daddy la Bouff, heart-breakingly dying of a heart attack on his beautiful daughter's bi day! Charlotte la Bouff would be handed over the business along with her darling husband of Prince Naveen. Lawrence would then sell over the business to me, as a part of our deal. Once I have the business and land, I will let my friends run wild in the town, taking all the souls they want. My debt would be clean and we all live happily ever after.

Well, apart from the Frog Prince.

Lawrence momentarily batted away a floating light that pestered around his ear. He dropped his sight and brought his foot down hard onto something near the bow which held the real Naveen. Something slick and pick retracted back into the box. The blasted frog was trying to make a getaway. The preacher asked the important question; distracted, Lawrence paid little attention. "What?" Lawrence muttered. He glanced up and shot straight to attention "Oh yes, I do!" He replied smoothly. Charlotte la Bouff batted her ridiculously long eyelashes at him.

I raised my silver needle; I hovered above the stitched-on heart onto the voodoo doll, flashing up at me in a bright scarlet fabric. The jolly sewn smile of Bid Daddy la Bouff grinned up at me; I gripped the plush doll tightened as I watched the marriage hungrily.

The glowing light hovered by Lawrence's ear; he swatted it away, annoyed. I squinted to see the light; it was a firefly. Snorting, I rolled my eyes at Lawrence's failed attempts to knock the bug away. For a second, it retreated before slowly floating down to the box. My eyes widened with panic; one of the first things I learnt when I was taught magic was that every animal has a mind of its own and can communicate with other animals. If that darn firefly unlocks the box and releases Naveen, our plan could be ruined…my friends would have my soul.

I stood straight and waved my arms above my head frantically. Lawrence's dark eyes flickered up to see me; I pointed desperately to the box. Luckily, Lawrence glanced down to see the firefly by the box. His eyebrows rose; he had figured it out. He raised his boot and brought it down with harsh force, flattening the firefly against the carpet. I inwardly winced; being crushed by a boot had to hurt.

Charlotte la Bouff dragged out the words "I do," From her thick-coated lips. Closing his bible, the preacher spoke:

"By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride."

I gripped my needle tightly, resisting the urge to laugh with victory. I had done it! It's all mine! My debt is cleared …but my mother told me not to count my chickens before they hatched…

Before the lips of Lawrence and Charlotte la Bouff had even grazed each other, I plunged the razor point of the pin right into the scarlet fabric of the stitch-on heart of my voodoo doll. With my eye twitching with triumph, I wanted Big Daddy la Bouff's baby blue eyes grow wide. He clutched his chest with one of his beefy hands and his cheeks blanched; he kneeled over and collapsed against the floor. The crowd gasped; Charlotte la Bouff hurried to his side. Bid Daddy la Bouff choked and gurgled while his daughter pleaded for him to stay alive, crying for an ambulance. Blood started to leak from the corner of his mouth; finally, he coughed violently and sent blood spraying over his daughter's face. She screamed, tears running down her face. Big Daddy la Bouff's eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body became rigid and shook ferociously. Soon, it went limp and his head hit the floor with a loud_ thump_!

I slipped a laugh, watching the pathetic face of Charlotte la Bouff, tainted with damp make up and drying blood. The crowds all screamed and gasped, the wails of emergency vehicles grew louder. Grinning with satisfactory, I yanked the pin from my voodoo doll and turned my back against the sorry scene.

As I walked all the way back to my home, I was struggling to control my laughter. I hurried home and locked myself in, pulling off my hat during a fit of laughter. Tears leaked from my eyes at the remembrance of Bid Daddy's terrified face, of Charlotte la Bouff's scarred soul. I sank into my armchair, my ribs aching from laughter.

Glancing up, I saw the shadows of my friends grinning at me. My mouth curved into a smile, flashing my uneven teeth. Pulling the voodoo doll from my pocket, I flashed it to my friends; there was a small but visible hole where the needle had stabbed the heart. "We got him, my friends!" I cried victoriously. They cheered and giggled to themselves like Hyenas. "Give it a few more days and I promise you, the New Orleans will be all yours and you can have all the souls you desire."

They celebrated, applauding and flashing dark grins that stood against the velvet walls. I ran a hand through my bouncy hair, chuckling to myself.

Lawrence signed the contract with flourish writing. I tapped the contract with the tip of my staff and my name magically appeared in a flash of violet, written in scrawny writing. I rolled the contract up and slipped it into my back pocket. "Pleasure doing business with you Lawrence," I thanked him and the talisman was snapped from his neck by my shadow and it sailed into my hand. Instantly, his body morphed back into the squat, old man he was when I first met him.

"Wh-wh-what?" He stammered. "Give that back!"

I pursed my lips and turned to him. "You see, Lawrence, my plan is complete. I now own the New Orleans, my friends can have all the souls they want and my debt to them is cleared! Once I give the command, they will take New Orleans by storm, they will suck out the souls from everyone" Everyone from grown men to tiny children!" I told him. I allowed the blood of Naveen to drip from the talisman before slipping it around my neck. "And all because of you, Lawrence."

Lawrence's face grew red. "You're a monster!" He growled.

"I prefer business man. Besides Lawrence, you always wanted to be like Naveen and I turned you into Naveen. You got what you wanted but now, it's over." I turned and stepped forward before freezing. "Oh, and by the way." I turned to face Lawrence, who scowled at me. "Seeing as it's your fault I now own this town, I've promised your soul to be the first one my friends will take!"

Lawrence's eyes widened with fear. I slow smirk sneaked its way onto my sly face. With a faint sound of a scream, the shadows in the room all morphed into the dark images of people with pineapple hair or devil horns. Lawrence screamed in terror and he was lifted from the ground, his legs failing beneath him. My friends gathered around him like vultures around a carcass; one my one, they sunk inside Lawrence and feasted. With each horrified, terrified and fearful scream from Lawrence's mouth, my smirk slowly got wider and wider. The body of Lawrence wriggled and withered, the colour slowly draining from his dying body. A crimson liquid dripped from his over-grown bottom lip; blood. I could hear the gleeful squeals of my friends as they feasted upon Lawrence's soul. They devoured his emotions; they tore apart his memories and ripped up his mind. Delightfully, they gorged themselves on the souls of a human being, happily eating everything that made him mentally human.

After their meal was finished, they crawled out of Lawrence's mouth; bending his jaw so wide, I heard it snap painfully and his flesh tore. Of course, Lawrence couldn't feel it; all of his feelings had been devoured from his inside. He fell limply to the ground, like a rag doll, and stared up against the ceiling; he was unable to remember who he was.

"Did you enjoy that, my friends?" I questioned. My friends all laughed with delight; my shadow grinned and hunched forward eagerly. I turned and pointed to the window with my staff; my shadow instantly opened it to reveal a great view of the New Orleans. "Then go, my friends, feast on all the souls you can find!"

They all poured themselves out of the window, swimming towards the busy streets of human beings. I heard the screams, the cries, the figures of grown men or tiny babies lift into the air as my shadow demonic friends feasted on their emotional souls. The room was now empty, apart from me, my shadow and the frightful screams from town. I turned and opened the far cupboard; I dragged out a jaw containing the frog.

Chuckling, I held it up to my face and peered at him closely. Tears were in his sad, little eyes as he hunched forward in his slimy body. "What's wrong little frog? Missing you girlfriend, huh?" I taunted. The frog turned away, closing his eyes. "Don't you worry about her, my prince. My friends will take care of her._ Good_ care of her."

The frog suddenly leapt up and threw himself against the glass, thundering his slimy fists against the jar in an attempt to break out. His face was furious, a painful burning fire in his tiny eyes. I laughed at his puny attempt. "What's wrong little frog? Ain't you happy? After all, you got what you wanted! You wanted the_ green_, did you? Wanted to _hop around from place to place_?"

I tossed my head back in laughter, even my shadow giggled maleficently. I wiped a tear from my eye, still chuckling. I twisted the lid open and dropped the frog onto the table; he was instantly held down by my shadow. "You got what you wanted frog, but you lost what you had."

I left the room, leaving behind the tortured screams of the frog as my shadow gorged out his soul. I left a free man, free from any debt to my friends. I passed the limp bodies of mindless people, innocent people left to rot out onto the curb because they didn't know who they were or couldn't feel when they were hungry. They couldn't cry or laugh, or know that the fact my friends were feasting on every last bit of their souls was wrong.

Whistling to myself, I left New Orleans while still inwardly laughing at their dull little faces.


	4. Cruella De Vil

**Here is the Devil woman, as promised. Written at *checks clock* quater past eleven at night...I need to sleep 0_o**

**Wilhelmina Schozzberry: ****Thanks **

**FanWriter2012: *****pointy smile* Thank you. Pity the puppies, pity the fools! Yep, Madame Medusa will be up at one point. She's brilliant, her and Cruella are the cruellest villains of all time! Medusa calls an orphaned girl ugly then steals her teddy bear, Cruella wants to make a fur coat out of puppies! Definitely pure evil.**

**MissSkulduggeryPleasant: ****I love Hades too, he's really funny Yep, villains are so much better than heroes, their plans are so flawless yet those goody-two-shoes just ruin it all and live happily ever after! We must crush it! **

"_Poison them!"_

The sight of dotted puppies collapsed to the ground, whining in pain from their stomach cramps as their mouths started to froth, flashed across my mind.

"_Drown them!"_

The feeling of squirming puppies wriggling in my hands as they attempted to free themselves of my grip to escape the trenched waters vibrated in my hands.

"_Bash them on the head!"_

The sound of poker sticks whacking tiny skulls until they cracked open like egg shells and spilt blood over the dusty carpet echoed in my ear-holes.

"Got any chloroform?" I asked, remembering how my father always killed the hunting dogs that fell ill. Jasper and Horace bumbled answers like idiots.

"I don't care how you kill the little beasts but do it and do it now!" I screamed. I furiously sent the toe of my scarlet heel into the screen of the television, sending sparks spraying over the crowd of innocent puppies. They yelped and scrambled away, hiding behind the moth-eaten furniture. "I am not leaving until every single one of those beasts is dead!"

"Oh, can't we wait until the morning?" Jasper whined. "Or at least watch the end of the show first?" My rage flared. I grabbed the bottle of alcohol he was currently drinking from and flung it into the fire. It exploded, making my hair and coat fly everywhere, and I slapped the two imbeciles across their cheeks.

"No you fool; I evidently cannot trust you to carry out the job by morning so I will watch you kill every single one of the beasts!" I screeched. "If you refuse to do so, I'll…I'll call the police!"

The two crooks instantly jumped to their feet, faces pale and eyes wide, and started searching for something to break the puppies skulls' with. Jasper grabbed a thin, iron poker stick from the fireplace; Horace broke a wooden leg off from a stool. We turned to all ninety nine puppies, which all peeked out from their hiding places in fear. Suddenly, there was a ferocious yowl and a tabby cat soared into Jasper's face. Jasper started screaming with pain as the cat ran its claws over his face. The puppies started barking, causing a great racket.

"Throw it onto the floor, you idiot!" I ordered. Jasper grabbed the cat by its tail and swung it against the floor. I quickly grabbed Jasper's poker stick, which had previously fallen to the floor, and brought it down against the cat's head with great force. It hissed in pain and I repeatedly thrashed the tabby with the hard-iron poker stick. I slammed my foot onto its tail so it couldn't escape as I started to kick its neck and strike it hard. Soon, gashes appeared and blood oozed out. I kept beating the feline, my eyes wide with determination.

The cat soon became limp and panting, I stepped away from it. "Look!" I cried in pure horror. "It's stained my best shoes!"

The carcass of the animal lay against the floor like a bundled rug, blood flowing across the floorboards. I kicked it away from me with my shoe until it fell in front of a group of puppies, they yelped and raced away from the carcass and they all huddled together in the corner of the room, fearful. "Kick it outside!" I commanded. "The vermin wouldn't even make a decent purse!"

Jasper, who had now recovered from his attack, grabbed the nearest puppy and held its squirming body down against the floor. He raised his fist and brought it down hard onto the puppy's face. It yelped, an audible_ crack_ sounding from its jaw. "Here," I said. "Take this."

I passed Jasper the bloody poker stick. He raised it high like a dagger before plunging it right into the puppy's eye. It writhed in pain, blood pumped from the wound like a fountain. It failed its paws around helplessly until it finally went limp, drowning in a puddle of its own blood. "One down," Jasper spat. "Ninety eight to go."

I grabbed the nearest puppy, held it by its neck and squeezed. It choked and batted me with its tiny paws. I could feel my eye twitch with pleasure as I watched the life drain from its beady eyes. I tightened my grasp, the neck snapped like a twig. The puppy hung from my fist infirmly. "I prefer that you strangle the beasts, or drown them." I told the idiots, who both were beating a puppy to death. "You don't stain the coat with blood them."

As Horace hurried to get a bucket of water, I and made a little pile of puppy carcasses. The pile rose like a spotted mountain; all the puppies crawled to the corners of the room, trying to get as far away from us as possible. I picked up a fat puppy, who whimpered as he thrashed himself about. Horace arrived, carefully carrying a bucket of icy water. I tore off my gloves and plunged the puppy into the murky water, holding the tiny thing right at the bottom. I felt it wriggle in my grasp, hopelessly attempting to reach the surface. A grin spread across my features as I clamped the puppy in the water, the icy chill freezing my fingers. Slowly, the puppy became more effortlessly and soon, stopped thrashing. Hesitantly, I pulled it up to the surface. Eyes wide, it had drowned in the icy water.

"How many down?" I asked as I threw the soaked puppy onto the pile.

"Eighteen."

"We'd better hurry up! Horace, start skinning! Do it in a different room so no blood stains my darling coat!" I ordered. Horace grasped various carcasses by their tails and led them into a different room, the end of a dagger sticking out of his pockets.

One by one, the puppies bit the dust. I took a puppy in each hand and held them down in the cold waters. With each dying babe, a laugh rose in my chest. By the time there was only fifteen left, I was in near hysterics. Jasper had sniggered along, probably not to face my wrath. He didn't understand how hilarious it was.

I was drunk on the amount of power I was feeling. I had the choice to either let the puppies die or to let them live, a choice that can change fate. With each drained life, I pleasured myself in watching their tiny bodies slowly become still, how their eyes were filled with the fear of me: Cruella De Vil! I thought of Anita, darling, and her (I snorted) bashful Beethoven, how devastated and how distraught they would be if they could see me now; if they could see me murdering their innocent puppies. Memo to myself: Visit the two while wearing my new coat and take a picture of their faces before framing it and placing it on my ceiling above my bed so I can laugh at it every time before I go to sleep.

Horace constantly returned, bloodier than before, picking up a handful of fresh dead puppies before taking them away to be skinned. I could have easily watched him skin them; I always watched it when my father had animals skinned to make my new clothing. Over the years, my stomach had become strong. I wouldn't have mind skinning the puppies alive but I didn't want my gorgeous fluffy coat tainted with the blood of some filthy little animals!

Before I knew it, there was a full pile of dead puppies, some of them with their eyes wide open in terror before their lives were cruelly snatched away from them. Have any guilty feelings? Just think that their lives are the price paid for an extremely good cause: my new coat.

"I've done it, miss." Horace muttered as he entered the room. His hands were drenched in the scarlet liquid of blood, his clothes stained crimson and his footprints were the ruby colour. "All of them, skinned. One of them was still alive but I still skinned him."

"That's fine as long as there's a pile of fresh coats-oh." I had pushed past him, storming into the room. There was a massive puddle of blood, the room smelled strongly of it. In a near bucket was a pile of white coats dotted with perfect black spots. A grin stretched across my marvellous features; it was done. "It's brilliant! Absolutely marvellous!"

"Now, we want our boodle!" Jasper claimed, holding out his palm.

"Alright, alright," I sneered. I quickly wrote a check and shoved it into their hands. Not even thanking them or bidding them goodnight, I grabbed the bucket and left the house in a storm, trudging through the snow to make it to my Panther de Ville. I slouched myself inside, tipping the mass of puppy coats into a briefcase I brought with me. Kicking the bucket outside, I ignited my car and drove off at manic speed. As soon as it was just me and the silence of the countryside, I erupted into a fit of laughter and my ribs started aching from all the cackling. I slowed down and stopped, punching my horn while tears streamed down my face. Still sniggering to myself, I wiped them away and drove on.

I wondered how long it would take until Jasper and Horace discover I hadn't signed the check.

I lay sprawled out on my bed, lavishing the soft feel of my new coats. My makers in New York had created six fantastic new coats, all made of Dalmatian puppy fur. I rolled over and took in the scent, the luscious scent of fur. I ran it between my fingers, grinning happily as I rolled around in it and rubbed the fur against my cheeks.

I slipped the coat over my shoulders. I was thin, with large buttons trailing down the front. It had a wide collar, a stitched on belt and the hem came to my ankles. The sleeves bunched up at my wrists, the feel was soft and comfortable. I fell in love with my new coats, enjoying the stalking sight of spots. Anita and her imbecile husband had not given hope on their puppies, yet almost two weeks after their upsetting dog-nap. I laughed in sheer amusement when I secretly knew that they would never find their beloved puppies. That is, of course, unless they met me while I was wearing my fabulous, marvellous, fantastic, brilliant, amazing new fine-coated, spotted coat!


	5. Scar

**Hm, not too sure if this chapter is sickening enough…I apologise for the long wait. First off, I've been away for a few days and I've had a sort of writers block. It first started off with Simba dying when Scar has him over the Pride Rock ledge, then it moved to Scar winning the big fight scene at the end. Finally, it moved back to the gorge scene. If you think it's not brilliant and stuff, just tell me and I'll have a go at re-writing it.**

**FanWriter2012: ****YAY! Happy reviewers make me happy! I can't stand animal abusers either They're so cute, especially little kittens and puppies. True, I should have done a little scene where Cruella meets the Radcliffes while wearing her lovely coat. Possible bonus chapter?**

**AngelOfDarkness1959: ****Puppies or Cruella?...you're not the only one torn…**

**Still too lazy to login: ****Hmm…another possible bonus chapter! Jeez, I'll have to do a deleted scene spin off or something…**

**Half-Blood Geek: ****Hooray! I've succeeded into scarring someone for life!**

**PriateWizardThief:**** Glad you liked it :D**

**AndieTiggerPyro: ****Shere Khan? He's on the list…and Gothel from Enchanted? Do you mean Narcissa from Enchanted or Gothel from Tangled? I'll put them both on the list. **

**Ryan: ****Here's Scar for you, my friend!**

**Solaria daughter of Apollo: ****All those added to the list, my friend. I apologise but there's a long list…you never know if someone has already asked for one of them already so one of them might be next **

**exiealta: ****Loved the first three? Awesome! Cruella made you feel sick? Brilliant! Ursula and Hades are added to the list…hey, you never know, Herc or Ariel may not die. Sure, they either will be locked away to rot into their scarred souls and choke on their sorrowful memories or either be tortured for the rest of their damned lives but they may live. Not happily, but there's a slight chance!**

**Phoenix360: ****I'm hoping to at least do all of the villains for the 50 animated Disney classics and then maybe move onto sequel villains. Maybe some live action, TV villains, yah never know. **

**Guests: ****Hello all! It'll be a bit confusing to go down the list as 'Guest, Guest, Guest, Guest," so I'll talk to you all at once. I've now updated, Shan Yu and Gaston and Frollo (FOR THE WIN!) are now on the waiting list.**

**Ashgirl17: ****I've updated now my dear friend **

**DarkAngel2000: ****I shall listen to that song as soon as I get up in the morning (right now I'm shattered). Captain Hook and Kaa will be up there at one point, definitely doing Kaa eating Mowgli and Shanti. Captain Hook…I may do both… **

As much as I'd hate to admit it, the Hyenas did an impressive job. Without fail, they had created a storming stampede enough to crush my muscular brother to his painful death. I had my doubts about them, I admit; I honestly thought they would somehow fail do follow the most simplest of commands. As I left the gorge with Simba practising his puny roar, my gut had been wriggling and clenching in fear that those stupid dogs would start the stampede too early or lead them the wrong way.

I had made it clear to them that if it was to fail, there would be no second chances. For one thing, I would be banished from the Pridelands in the act of treason and attempted murder. If I miraculously was seen innocent and spared, I would have killed the imbecilic idiots before they had chance to yelp and run away.

Thank heavens that they didn't fail.

If anything, the stampede was a success. Mufasa scaled the wall of the gorge with great difficulty and as he pleaded for my help to reach the ledge and safety, I inwardly grinned at the sight of my helpless brother. After all these years of being pushed around, of being constantly reminded that I was the baby, that I would never be anything of importance, I felt in control.

Gazing into the reddish-brown irises of panic, I was reminded of all the times I felt in that position. The times Mufasa, the older and larger cub, pounced out of the bushes or long grass at me and wrestled me to the ground. I always lost, cried to mother about it but all she did was laugh and say it was a game. I was reminded of all the times I was chased by different animals, the most fearful being the water buffalo. My scar tingled; that water buffalo had dared slash me with its horns.

"Brother!" Mufasa cried. "Help me!"

I stared at Mufasa. Should I help him? I remembered how he would push me and when I pushed him back, I would get a row. I remembered how Mufasa always got the biggest, juiciest slab of meat. How Mufasa could go wherever he liked, how Mufasa could do whatever he wanted, how _Mufasa _could get away with everything he did. All the words pouring out of my parent's mouths: "_Mufasa the great…Mufasa, I'm so proud…You will be a great King one day, Mufasa!"_

Not once did I ever hear similar words come from their mouths to me. All it was "_Taka, apologise to your brother…Taka, don't be so stupid…Taka, why can't you be more like your brother?"_

Roles reversed: Now, I was the one in power.

Instead of doing the good thing, the right thing, I slammed my claws down onto Mufasa's paws. He roared in pain. I dug my claws into his fur, puncturing little holes to allow small trickles of blood seep through. I leaned in and gave him a sly smirk. Confusion mixed with fear and panic in my brother's eyes.

Cruelly, I spoke: "Long live the King!" I sneered. Mufasa's eyes grew wide with each word.

Finally, still gripping Mufasa's paws, I pulled his grip away from the stone and let go. With a yell of many negative emotions, Mufasa fell into the stampede. I could hear Simba cry in denial and grief. With a happy smile, I watched my brother hit the ground and hooves trampled over his broken body. I licked my claws clean from the small taint of blood while watching the hooves kick, crush and break my brother's corpse. I felt no remorse, no grief nor any sadness in my heart as I watched my only sibling die at my very claws. But then, I'm not too sure I have a heart.

The stampede soon died away, leaving behind clouds of dust that easily masked me as I approached the corpse of my brother. Simba cried and wept as he cuddled next to his father's body after attempting every way he could to awaken him. I chuckled as he pulled on his ear, cried for help and shook my brother. The silly cub desperately had to grow up; I didn't cry when I heard my father had died. I didn't go running to the dead lion, shaking him and crying "Oh daddy, please wake up!" in such a childish manner.

I clucked my tongue; such a petty cub. No good to be king.

I emerged from the shadows and clouds of dry dust, glaring down at the golden cub. I watched them for a few seconds, repressing the temptation to lunge at the cub, snap his neck like a twig and take my rightful place as King. But no, I had to wait…wait…

"Simba!" I gasped in acted shock. The golden cub turned at looked at me with fearful eyes. "What have you done?"

Simba leapt to his paws and whimpered. "It wasn't m-my fault-" He glanced at his dead father and back at me, tears streaming from his baby eyes. "It was an accident!"

For a few minutes, I decided to play the understanding uncle. "Of course, of course," I said as I pulled him towards me, away from my brother. "Nobody ever means for these things to happen." Simba hugged my leg, burying this tiny face into my fur to hide his tears. _That's right, little cub, come closer to me…closer…_

"But the King is dead."

With large, mourning eyes, Simba's sight shot up to me in shock. "If it weren't for you, he would still be alive." _Fill him with guilt; make him feel as if it is all his fault…all his fault…_

I gasped. "What would your mother think?"

Simba sniffed. "Maybe she'll u-understand that it was an ac-cident."

"I very much doubt that would happen, Simba." I soothed. "Your mother will be heartbroken; she'll have to blame someone. She'll never look at you again, she will lose all love and respect for you."

"Wh-what should I do?" Simba croaked, tears again forming in his eyes.

"There is nothing you can do, Simba." I told him. I put a paw on his back, comfortly rubbing his neck. My claws stretched out to graze his soft fur…such soft fur. Simba glared at the ground, his tears forming little puddles. "Well, there is one thing you can do."

Simba snapped to alert. "What is it?"

I looked around to check no one was there and I leaned forward, putting my mouth to his little ear: "Die!"

Before the cub could react, I snapped my mouth over his weak little neck and sunk my teeth through his fur and skin. The metallic taste of blood oozed into my mouth; I love the taste of blood. Using my fangs, I ripped Simba's throat; the cub was unable to scream for help. The cub squirmed a little, his tiny paws batted at my face. He whimpered and choked. _Daddy's not here to save you, little cub, _I thought. _Daddy's gone and soon, you'll join him!_ I firmly clamped my mouth around his neck, hearing it snap and dropped him. I watched my petty nephew's eyes grow wide as blood poured from his mouth. The life drained away from his bright eyes, blood tainted his beautiful golden coat of fur.

I must admit, it was much more entertaining to watch than Mufasa's death.

Satisfied with the job done, I turned away from the two bodies and stalked away into the shadows. Bonzai, Shenzi and Ed melted out of the dust clouds and gave me excited grins. I nodded to the two bodies. "Have them." I snorted.

The three giggled with delight and swarmed around the two carcasses. Their teeth sank into the fur of the bodies and tore them off, their jaws digging in to get at the bowels of my brother and nephew. I watched them for a few seconds, watching the blood spill out of them before turning away to find Sarabi and the lionesses.

As I headed up out of the gorge, I checked on Zazu. The stupid dodo was still out cold, thank goodness. I jumped to the surface and glanced around. I could hear the roars of the lionesses hunting from over in the grasslands. Before heading to tell them of the bad news, I glanced back to the Hyenas before sinking my teeth into my back leg. I blocked out all pain as I bit hard until I tasted blood before letting go and then running my claws at my ankles. Screwing my eyes tightly until they became bloodshot, I ran after the lionesses as fast as I could.

Sarafina was the first to see me. She frowned as I approached with bite marks and scrams over my body, my eyes seemingly close to crying. Her eyes widened and she alerted her fellow lionesses. Sarabi quickly pounced next to me.

"Scar?" She called. "What's happened?"

"Quickly, in the gorge! Hyenas! Simba and Mufasa have been attacked!" I cried.

The lionesses sprinted past me before I could say anything else. I quickly followed, trying not to smirk as we approached. Sarabi cried out in terror as she gazed over the side of the gorge. She growled and led the lionesses down the side of the gorge. I stood at the top, watching them claw and roar at the three Hyenas. Startled, they ran off in terror. Three lionesses pursued them down the gorge while the others assembled around the two corpses.

I jumped down after them, keeping my act up as the innocent, terrified uncle. When I joined the group, half of them were in tears. Sarabi nuzzled the head of her mate, staring at the corpse of her son while tears of shock and grief made damp tracks over her fur. I stepped forward, letting my own pretend tears spring from my eyes.

We 'grieved' for a few moments before Sarafina gazed up at me with blue eyes. "What happened?" She questioned.

"I took Simba for a walk about. He was bored; Nala was napping, Mufasa was busy and Sarabi hunting so I said to him "We'll go for a walk around the gorge and by the time we get back, Nala would either be awake or your mother back from hunting." He agreed and as we were walking, Simba ran down the gorge." I storied. I had spent weeks preparing this speech. I dropped my sight to the floor and sniffed. "I told him to come back because it was dangerous but he would listen. Suddenly, a stampede came running down. I wanted to jump in after him but I knew I would just be trampled. I went and got Mufasa; he was always the stronger and braver one. He went in and got Simba out but as he fell back in and…and…"

I turned away, wiping away my tears. The lionesses wept, believing my story. Gullible idiots. "I came down to find Simba. Thankfully, he was alive. He was crying by his father. We grieved together for a few moments until some Hyenas came out from the dust. I told Simba to hide while I fended them off. I did but they had me down in few moments. While they thought I was out, they went after Simba. He hid up on a ledge and I told him I'd come back. I ran to get you for help but I was too slow…"

I stifled back fake tears, getting up and stalking away. I roared and clawed at the ground. "It was my entire fault! If I had been braver and went in, Mufasa would still be alive and most likely Simba too! Mufasa could deal with Hyenas no problem!"

I plopped myself on the ground. I felt someone come next to me and nuzzle my mane. "It's not your fault," Sarabi spoke. "Y-you did your best. If you hadn't fended off the Hyenas, Simba could have died in a worse way. As long as you tried your best, there is no reason for you to blame yourself."

I heard Sarafina join her. "You did the right thing in getting Mufasa. It's just a shame that…" She trailed off and placed a gentle paw on Sarabi's.

I shook my head and sat up. "Please forgive me, Sarabi. My cowardice has cost us not only a great King but a great brother and a great father, a great mate. If I had jumped in, Mufasa and Simba would still be here."

Sarabi gave me a weak smile. In her eyes, I would see the despair and torture. "You don't need forgiveness for something that isn't your fault." She turned away and spoke to the lionesses. "We must return to Pride Rock and inform the others."

She acted strong but I knew she was dying on the inside. The torn look in her eyes, the way she no longer stood tall but hunched over slightly, the weakness in her voice. She was heartbroken. All of them were. The feeling of sorrow was in the air, the sound of mourning and the smell of salty tears. The whole Pridelands were in mourning of a beloved King and Prince. No happiness, no songs, no music, no laughter and no smiles; just sadness, silence and gloomy faces.

And I loved every second of it.


	6. Jafar

**I WARN YOU NOW! THIS CHAPTER MAY TURN THE ENTIRE STORY TO RATED 'M'. NO LEMONS BUT...UGH. **

**Finally, here's Jafar! I apologise for the long wait; I've had mountains of homework to do and it's the start of my GCSEs (and an AS Level) so I've had to knuckle down for the past few weeks. Also, I haven't been able to watch _Aladdin_ in many, many years so it's all a bit vauge for me. I've been able to get snipets on YouTube at Jafar's defeat. Hats off to him for that marvellous laugh at the end of _Prince Ali Reprise_. Amazing. **

**Guest: Thank you and yes, it would have been much easier if Scar just killed Simba right there. Of course, that way, we wouldn't really have the movie! I have read Savu0211 comics and I am _slightly_ disappointed at the similarites. I might go back and re-do that scene, the fact they seem alike has really bothered me. **

**Solaria daughter of Apollo: Thank you**

**Ashgirl17: Thank you for the praise and Lion King is definetly one of Disney's best creations, although I'm a bigger fan of some other their other movies (Treasure Planet, Hunchback of Notre Dame, etc.)**

**NYCortes: ****Thank you, I do like some Disney heroines (my personal favourites being Captain Amelia, Mulan, Pocahontas) I love my evil mind too, sometimes the things it comes out with are brilliant. Here's Jafar for you, I hope you find it disgustion and sick-twisted. Alas, I cannot dress as a Disney Villain for Halloween. My two year old cousin has demanded for me to dress as a witch. She said she's going to get me on Halloween. Nothing, I repeat, _nothing_ is more frightening when a two year old looks you in the eye and tells you she's going to get you. Nothing.**

**Pearl Bramble of Willowbottom: Thank you, it's wonderful when people tell me they find this sickening, makes me feel as if my aim has been hit. No, I've never thought about being a horror writer. I've never really come up with a great plot for one. Hopefully, I'll find inspiration in the future.**

**purplerose9793: Thank you, here's some more!**

**Sprig of Moonlace: ****So glad I've left you speechless. Here's Jafar and Gaston has been put on the waiting list. **

**captaincuddlesthegreat: ****Maleficent has been placed on the waiting list; expect her up in a few chapters or so. I've always thought Disney should do a show about the Villains (Not so much the House of Mouse but more sinister, not all song and dance about taking over a building when they could easily go out and get their own.) getting together but apparently, shows with terrible acting and teenagers singing is far more entertaining than that (please not the sarcasm there).**

**shegoismyfav: Thank you, I've always prefered villains to heroes (they seem to get it far too easy). Maleficent is on the waiting list, she'll be up within a few chapters.**

**Guest: ****For Alice in Wonderland, I'd use the Queen of Hearts. Chesire doesn't seem much like a villain to me, only mischevious. As of how Alice is 'defeated', I'm keeping that secret until the chapter comes up. I've already got the plan forming in my head *insert evil laugh here*. **

**I was just thinking, do you think it's possible to get a docterate in Disney? On with the show:**

Decades of searching had finally led to this hour. I spent so many years just trying to find the Cave of Wonders and then I had to find my 'diamond in the rough'. The lamp was in my fingers for a mere few seconds before it was snatched from me and somehow placed into the grubby hands of a street rat! But now, it is back in my grasp and two of my precious three wishes already well made.

I am the Sultan. I am the most powerful being on Earth. And now, this silly child thinks he can defeat me!

Already, he is trapped in my coiled snake body. He squirms and wriggles but I clench my grasp on him tighter. I could easily snap him in half.

I throw my scaley head back and cackle at his vain attempts to defeat me. Does he think a mere blade can kill me? That he will actually save his princess and live happily ever after? He is nothing but a mere boy who's lived on the streets for his entire life. He is nothing! I lean close to him, still sniggering at the gleam in his eyes. He must think he is brave; he's just stubborn and stupid!

"You little fool." I sneered. "You thought you could defeat the most powerful being on Earth?"

The boy squirmed in my grasp. Desperate, he glanced over to the Genie for help. He blinked and turned back to me with a triumphant gleam in his brown eyes. "The Genie has more power than you'll ever have!"

"What?" I snarled. What is he getting at?

"He_ gave_ you your powers! He can _take them away!"_ The imbecile thought he had gotten at me. I realised his silly plan and cackled once more.

"You stupid little boy! The Geniecan never go against their masters! That includes undoing wishes. If you thought that so, why hasn't he already done it, hm?" His face was of pure terror, realising that there was no way out. He had played his last card, there was no hope. "Don't you think I did my research before I went looking? The Genie _cannot_ go back on wishes once they're done."

I leaned in closer, focusing both my eyes on his. "Did you try to trick me into wishing to be a Genie?" I flung my head back and laughed so hard tears came to my eyes. "You thought you could trick me into becoming a Genie? I know Genies are prisioners to their lamps, boy. No matter how powerful they are, they must bow to their masters."

I tightened my grip on the boy and I heard him groan. "I'm too intelligent for that, boy."

I could feel bones snapping as I tightened my grasp again. He cried out in pain, tears dripping from his eyes. Chuckling menacingly to myself, I crushed his torso and legs. His lips had gone blue, the light in his eyes slowly dying out. I could hear the cries of the Genie as he lunged forward but his shackles halted him and he could interupt. As I squeezed again, his stomach acids flew out his mouth and landed on my face. I hissed as it burned slightly and I wiped it. As I moved my body to wipe my face with my tail, I crushed the boy's body and mixtures of blood and stomach fluids shot out. His bone snapped like twigs.

With it done, I unravelled myself and the boy's limp body fell to the ground. It was dotted with black and blue brusies, blood leaking from his mouth, nose and eyes. They were buldging out; his ears were bleeding also. Some of his bones had cut through his skin, leaving shards of it poking our of his arms, ribs and legs. I grinned as I saw the body; the little brat was finally gone.

Using my tail, I flicked the body to the over side of the room, where it hit the wall and crumpled into a pile. It felt like a ragdoll it was so limp and boneless.

Still laughing madly, I turned back into the my usual handsome self, the serpent scepter returning to my hand. I brushed invisible dust from my shoulders and approached the hour glass. With a wave of my hand, the glass melted away and the sand tumbled out. The beautiful face of Princess Jasmine emerged as she spluttered and spat sand out of her mouth. She breathed in deeply, her wonderful chest heaving. For the moment, she was passed out.

I turned to the Genie, who had tears streaming down his face. "Leave us." I ordered. He glared at me but was dragged himself out, sobbing as he did so. I waved my staff and everyone floated out: the kitten, the 'chump' ex-Sultan, the monkey toy, passed-out Iago. I left the body of the street rat there.

Turning back to the unconsious princess, I snapped my fingers and her eyes immediantly opened. Despite being a stubborn brat, she is _extremely_ beautiful. Her beautiful eyes glared at me and desperately looked around for her precious 'Prince Ali'. She cried in horror when her sight finally fell upon the battered body. Ignoring me completely, she got up and hurried over the corpse.

"No!" She screamed as she flung herself over the body. Evidently, he was dead; she didn't try to revive him. Tears fell from her eyes and down onto his body, her frame shaking as she did so. She wept in agony and heartbreak. I watched on, a smirk slithering onto my face. Fool of a minx.

"Such a shame," I soothed in fake regret. "And to think, I would have let him live."

I stepped over the Princess and gently placed my hand on her shoulder. Such warm, smooth skin...

She pulled away from me, standing up and glaring at me in the eye. Her palms planted themselves onto my chest and she attempted to push me: instead, I gripped onto her elbows and pulled her towards me. Forcefully, I kissed her curved jaw but she pulled away. "Get away from me, you monster!" She screeched and fought against me.

I pushed her against the wall, pinning her hands above her body. I started to plant harsh kisses down her neck, clamping my jaw over the base and biting hard. She cried for help as she kicked her legs; I grabbed her waist and used my lower torso to trap her there. With her free hands she tried to push me away but I grabbed them again and shoved them aaginst the wall. She struggled as I roughly kissed her plum lips and slid my tongue into her mouth. She shrieked and bit hard onto my tongue.

I yelled out in pain and pulled away, giving up with her fighting. Freeing her, I raised my staff and slammed it into the side of her face. She fell next to Aladdin's body, the side of her face already brusing and beguinning to swell. I aimed my staff at her. "You will love me," I growled. "Or you shall be killed!"

"Kill me then!" She screamed back. "I will _never_ love you!"

I roared with anger, sent a spark of energy from my staff and sent Jasmine flying across the room. She cried out in pain; I hadn't killed. I wouldn't kill her. Not that I couldn't but she could be so much more useful. She glanced up at me with pure fear in her chocolate eyes. "I am sorry, _Princess_," I sneered. "But I have a much better plan for you."

"GENIE!" I yelled. The blue shape-shifter slunk through the door.

"Yes master?" He grumbled.

"For my third wish," I started. I turned back around to the princess. Grabbing her wrist, I pulled her up and against me. I clamped my arm around her smooth waist, squashed one arm between my chest and hers before gripping her wrist tighter and holding it to my chest. "I wish that I and Princess Jasmine to become immortal."

The princess gasped and screamed in protest. The Genie clenched his jaw. "Sorry, Princess." He croaked. He closed his eyes and held out a finger. A red spark shot from it and at me and Jasmine. It circled us and I instantly felt stronger. The weariness had worn away, the aching in my bones faded. I felt thirty years younger. Triumphantly, I laughed. _I'm immortal! I will live forever! No one can ever harm me!_ Tears sprang from Jasmine's eyes.

"Now, leave us, fool!" I ordered. I waved my staff and a comfortable carpet appeared with multiple colorful cushions. Candles appeared and lit instantly, the candles on the grand chandeliers snuffed out. The lighting lowered dramtically. "Princess Jasmine and I have business to attend to."

With a face of disgust and guilt, the Genie turned and disappeared. I released the princess and she instantly turned to run towards the balcony. I tutted and waved my staff. An aura of scarlet red appeared around her and she froze like a statue. She floated upwards into the air and landed gently on the carpet, lying flatly against the soft fabric.

"I'm sorry Princess but you'll have to put up with me for the rest of eternity-" I grinned, drunk with power. "-weither you love me or not!"

I laid next to her and watched a tear leak from her beautiful brown eyes. I laughed at her misfortune and realised that today had been the best day of my life.

**Kill me. Now. I can't believe it. I turned Jafar into a rapist! Holy heck, I'm insane! **

**I'm so sorry if you have your heads over your toilet seats right now. I'm sickened with myself. I just thought that killing Aladdin and becoming immortal wasn't enough. I thought that if I really pushed the boundries...well...ugh. I apologise if I've scarred you for life. Should I turn this story to an 'M'? **

**Review me your thoughts and again, I apologise.**


	7. Judge Claude Frollo

**Hello my fellow readers! **

**Thank you to those who have reviewed, especially after the previous chapter. **

**Please, if you review (do review, I love getting feed back. No flames though, only constructive critisim please) REMEMBER to tell me if I should turn this story to a 'M' rated. I doubt there will be any more rape/forced kissing/sexual references after this chapter and maybe a little bit of reference when I do Gauston's chapter (who might not be for a while). **

**I'd like to explain a few things to you: I still can't get over Jafar's 'rape' with Jasmine. I almost talked myself into starting off the whole sex but...ugh, I'm fourteen. I can bearly read lemons, yet alone _write _one. I was disgusted with the whole forced-kissing scene. No, I'll leave writing lemons until I'm _way _older (if I ever do write one, that is). Maybe then, I can deal with it better. **

**About Jasmine/Jafar being immortal and all that, I very much doubt Jafar would remain faithful. As beautiful Jasmine is, I think Jafar would quickly get bored and somehow find various other beautiful little floozies to sleep with. It might make the whole 'Jasmine being immortal' twist pointless but now Jasmine can never die, she'll be trapped in the living world forever while Aladdin is stuck in the after-life. They'll never be together again. Never. Think of it as Jafar's way of getting back at those who defy him: they'll take away those they love so they'll never be able to reunite ever again. Harsh, worse than death even.**

**THANK YOU for reviews.**

**By popular demand, here's Frollo. I won't spoil any of it for you but I'll warn you: Frollo has a much, much, _much _bigger obsession over Esmeralda than Jafar did over Jasmine. Expect there to be more 'pervy-ness', for lack of better words. Again, no actual sexual scenes. I can't do those...ugh.**

**Hunchback Of Notre Dame is one of my favourite Disney films. It's less scary than Fantasia (I watched that film for the first time earlier this week, scary as Hell. I've watched Stephen King films at a younger age and LAUGHED at them. Fantasia creeps me out) but contains many dark films. Who can forget the masterpiece of _Hellfire_? Me and my friend sing it from time to time whenever something sinister pops up. The songs are amazing and Frollo is my favourite male villain (Gothel as my female, both tie as top favourite). **

**Ten points to the person who can spot the Macbeth quote!**

That stupid, foolish, imbecilic _hunchback_!

How_ dare_ that deformed creature defy me? Me! I raised him and he dare go against my orders for the..._fourth time? _First he leaves the Bell Tower to go to that Feastival for Fools, secondly he saves that wicked gypsy girl, thirdly he leaves the Bell Tower for a second time and now...

And now he's standing upon Notre Dame herself, holding the witch above his head. Her hair is live a raven crown of darkness and sin haloing around her head. The cries of 'Santcuary' echo through the streets of Paris. She is under the protection of God, safe from those in purpose of harming her. She doesn't _deserve_ that protection. That filth is influenced by Satan himself, filled from her crown to her toe-tip with direst cruelty. The Lord would never protect someone like her.

That gypsy, seductive and sensual, must burn.

"Captain!" I call. The Captain salutes. "Sieze the cathedral!"

_I will get that gypsy girl. _

I turn and walk down the steps to leave. If the fools can do their jobs right, they will capture the girl and bring her to me. Luckily enough, my pace was slow. If had been any faster I would have been crushed by the pillar of wood that fell from the cathedral and down onto my carriage. With a sickening crunch, the metal and wood collapsed and the horses whined in fight. I jump back, my hat falls from my head and the horses race away.

I sneer. "Come back you cowards!" I order to the soldiers who flee. I hurry up to the Captain and snatch away his sword. "You men," I call, pointing to the group of soldiers who had stood their ground. "Pick up that beam. Break down the door."

Disaster errupts around me. Somehow, the other captivated gypsies escape and combined with an angry mob, they ascend upon the few men left. Ladders with men scaling up the walls fall and collpase as various slabs of stone and brick fall onto their heads. "Harder!" I coaxed the soldiers ramming the door down. With a few more slams, the door beguins to falter. The wood cracks and splinters fly. Pidgeons, possibly influenced by the devil, dive down and chase away a few guards. "Put your backs into it!" I command.

A rushing sound comes from above me. I look up and feel immense heat. The men drop the beam and scatter while I back against the wall as a waterfall of hot liquid traps me against the wall. I sheild my watering eyes but I am untouched. I return to work, chopping away at the door with my sword. I make a hole big enough for me to clamber through. _Finally! _The inside of the catherdal is cooler than the outside and my flushed face is chilled my the cool air.

_Don't stop, _I tell myself. _Keep going. Get to the girl...and the hunchback._

The archdecon approaches me from the twirled staircase. "Frollo! Have you gone mad?"

Maybe I have, but I don't , I sheath my sword under my robes and start to scale the staircase. The archdecon stands before me, his palm stretched to push me back. This fool stopped me from doing what I should have done twenty years ago. He will not interfere again.

"I will not tolerate this assault on the House of God!" He demands as I stride forward. _Tolerate it you old bat._ His palm pushes me back. I glare at him and grab him by the front of his robes and throw him down the stairs with adernaline strength.

"Silence you old fool!" I growl. I prowl up the staircase, turning around the twirl to see the wooden door. "The hunchback and I have unfiinished business to attend to and this time, you will not interfere."

I lock the door behind me, before turning to hurry up the stairs. Once I reach the outside of the cathedral, I hear...sobbing? Mascaline sobbing. Only one male was weak enough to cry.

I follow the sobbing into a room, pulling out the dagger that lurks under my robes. The hunchback was defied me too much. He has failed. He has no purpose to me. Why should he live?

Pushing open the door to the room from the sobbing source, I see Quasimodo hunched **(pun intended)** over the laying corpse of the Gypsy filth. So, she is dead. I don't know whether to be glad or disappointed. I didn't punish her but the scum has left the Earth to rot in Hell. Quasimodo does not turn as I approach. He can hear me; my boots echo when they collide with the wooden flooring. I place a palm over his hunch.

"You killed her." He hisses.

I decide to play the innocent slave of God. "It was my duty, horrible as it was. I hope you can forgive me."

_Not that you will live long enough to. _

"There, there Quasimodo. I know it hurts but now the time has come to end your suffering..."

I raise my dagger, aimed at the hunchback's hunch. He doesn't notice; he is too wrapped in the mourning of the witch to bother looking up. He kisses her hand and holds it against his cheek. Anger and jealously lurches my stomach and I clench my teeth.

_"Forever!"_

I plunge the dagger down into the hunch. Quasimodo gasps as blood sprouts from the wound like weeds from the ground. It's not enough to kill him. He falls back and grabs the closest thing to him: my robe. As his tunic beguins to soak in his own blood, he looks up at me with fearful, betrayful eyes. I grab his sinfully red hair and force his head back. Pressing the dagger against his beefy neck, I run it across deeply. He chokes, his lumbering hands grasping the wound as I push him to the floor. He gasps in for air only for the blood to cough up through his mouth. Rivers of scarlet run down his neck. He gurgles and drowns in his own blood. His struggle to breath lessens as the fear in his eyes fades away with his life. His arms falls backwards and hits the floor limply, into a pool of crimson blood. It trickles over his lips and down his face, his eyes sill wide and lifeless.

The hunchback of Notre Dame is dead.

I scrunched my nose at it before carefully making my way around the corpse and towards the bed. There she lay, the peaceful body of a sinful witch. Her raven hair is spread over the pillow, her emerald eyes hidden behind her dark lids. She's beautiful, even when dead. I reach out my hand and touch her dark locks. They're soft at the touch, even if knotted and scruffy. I grab a long lock and raising my bloodstained dagger, but it from her head. I raise it to my nose and inhale deeply. The same strong smell of grass and wine.

Stuffing the hair into my pocket, I turned to leave when the corpse of the gypsy groans. I freeze. Is the dead about to rise?

Her eyes flutter open and her lips form a single name: _"Quasimodo."_

I hide in the shadows, hidden behind the door. She screams as she sees the dead hunchback and moves to shake him. There's no mistake that he's dead; she doesn't try to wake him. She cries, her shaking fingers move to close his eyes. She forces the lids shut and cries mournfully. I remain hidden. It is a while before she gets up to leave. As she walks past the door, I sprung from my hiding place. I hold my dagger to her throat and use my other hand to pin her arm against her back. She gasps.

"Do not scream." I whisper into her ear. "Or you'll suffer the same fate as your friend."

She growls. "I'd rather die."

I pulled her back into the room and slam the door shut. Blood stains her dress and hands as she falls into the blood. I lock the door and pocket the key. She

She shall not escape.

"What have you done?" She cries.

"What I should have done a long time ago." I tell her. I grab her arm and pull her to her feet. She struggles as I pin her to the bed. She screams but I don't care; no one will hear her.

I force myself over her, pinning her to the bed. I wrap her ebony locks around my palms and tighten them into my fists. I pull her face towards me and kiss her roughly on the lips. She fights but she doesn't win. I have waited for that kiss for days. All the bottled-up lust flowed from me as my hands travelled lower down. She cried and screamed, trying to kick me off. I raised my palm and slapped her face. She whimpered. I led a trail of rough kisses down her kneck and over her collar bone, down to the hem of her dress. I clutched the straps and tugged hard; they snapped in my hands. I brushed down the fabric to reveal her ample bosom-

A hard fist caught my jaw. A metallic taste errupted in my mouth. I grunted but kept her pinned down. "You want to play it that way?" I taunted. "We'll play it that way."

I flip her over, she cried in pain as I twisted her arm into a wrong angle. One hand slips under her fabric and travells lower down again. My hand slides over her navel and lower to the beguinning of her thigh. She cries out, refusing to do as I wished. She tries to push me away.

Tired of her, I get off her. Her face is stained with tears. Brushing my hair back into place, I raise my foot and kick her hard in abdomen. She screeches and rolls onto the floor. I kick hed again, in the flank. Again, in the head. She hits her head hard agains the post of the bed and becomes unconscience. Sneering, I turn and darg Quasimodo's body to the door. I unlock it, drag it outside and over the balcony and into the firery pools below. _Join your unholy mother, demon!_ Three gargoyles watch me with unhappy faces. I spit at them. I hate those ghastly things.

Returning to the room, the gypsy is crouched on the floor, holding her arm tightly. "I shall return in the morning with a cloth and water. You will clean this mess up." I order, pointing to the pool of blood on the floor.

The gypsy eyed me cautiously. "What do you mean?" She asked.

"I mean that you shall live in this room for the rest of your life." I told her.

Her eyes widened and she gasped. "You can't do that!" She cried.

I smirked. "I can. I am a public offical and a good Christian. Anything I say is offical. If I were to say that when I approached the hunchback and yourself and you both tossed yourselves down into the burning pits below and your bodies instantly burned to a crisp, they would believe me. No searching, no wondering, no evidence. You will be declared dead. Suicide."

The gypsy started to cry and again and flew herself at me. "You monster!" She screamed. I grabbed her arm, fought and threw her back into the puddle of blood. "It seems you need to be taught a lesson."

Grabbing one of the iron instruments by the wall, I raised it and brought it down heavily on her stomach. She screamed in pain. I smirked. I beated her mercilessly until she was swollen and covered in bruises. Tears made her eyes go bloodshot. Blood seemed from a cut lip and various scrapes around her arms. To finish, I rose my dagger again and cut a long, fine wound down her arm. She shrieked in agony. "You're mine." I growled.

I left that night and returned everyday and night. I fed her, clothed her and she would repay me for keeping her alive. She refused at first, kept trying to escape. She never got out. My hands roamed where they felt they wanted to roam. My lips did not leave one inch of her untouched. She kept crying, screaming for help. No one came. Instead, stories flew around of the ghost of the gypsy Esmeralda who haunted Notre Dame. They thought that any noise they heard was her, even if it wasn't her.

I kept a lock of her hair under my pillow at night and prayed for forgiveness. Each morning I would awaken a pure man and every time I returned home I would have been tainted with sin. My dreams became haunted by her sinful looks, those red lips. She would dance for me, kiss me and allow me to smell her raven locks of hair. _Oh those raven locks..._

She never seemed thankful. She even tried to starve herself until I forced grapes and cheese down her throat. After two years she gave up. She would lay there, not moving, and wouldn't look at me. I didn't complain but sometimes I would hold my blade to her until she started to treat me the same as I treated her.

I died peacefully years later but no one knew of Esmeralda still in her prison at Notre Dame. With no one to feed her, she slowely starved to death, free from her prison and enslavement to me. She recieved her punishment from me, beaten until she could not bare children and bled daily. I was buried with a strand of her raven hair unknowingly in the pocket of my robes. I had a part of her with me forever.

Even in Hell, where the heat was so intense, I still had that piece of hair. It made my eternal torture seem less...painful. I saw her in the flames. It made them look beautiful. Every little bit of it reminded me of her. Even though she wasn't with me, it made my Hell look like Heaven.

**Ugh, I'm a monster.**

**First I raped Jasmine, now I've repeatedly raped Esmeralda. **

**Yes, Frollo died and was sent to Hell. It wasn't as if he was going to live forever and get a free ticket to Heaven. Instead, I made him happy for the rest of his life and sort of, in a twisted way, happy for the rest of his eternal life. Getting to finally 'do' Esmeralda was probably the only thing he wanted. Of course, I had to kill someone. Poor Esme, I might have liked her a little bit. **

**The last little bit about Frollo being happy for the rest of his life in Hell, the idea came from my boyfriend. In the middle of RE, he turned to me and asked:**

**"Would Hell be more of Heaven to a sadomachoist?" **

**Paradox. **

**Should I turn this story to an 'M'? No sex but...tell me what you think. Please, don't flame. It hurts my feelings when people be mean about my work. If you think it's terrible, don't go overboard and start swearing and stuff. Just say you don't like it and begone! I don't care if you don't like it but just don't be horribly cruel about it. I might seem like an insane psychopath but I have feelings!**

**Turns out I get sick around blood. It's ironic, I love seeing it in films and writing about blood but when I cut my toe open the other day, I was weak for the next week...strange. **

**Tune in for the next chapter, not sure who it's going to be. I think it's Shere Khan but I haven't got the Jungle Book yet so unless I catch the ending somewhere, he'll have to wait a little while. **


End file.
